


A Glass Slipper on the Other Foot

by MagicQuill42



Series: CinderPat Universe [10]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Child Abuse, I tried to mimick the book of fairy tales on my desk, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Parent Death, stylized prose, though just in the way that's canonical to Cinderella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22698163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicQuill42/pseuds/MagicQuill42
Summary: Roman is the picture-perfect storybook prince, and Patton his perfect princess.But what were to happen if their roles in this tale were reversed...
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Minor or Background Relationship(s), background analogical - Relationship, background sleepmas
Series: CinderPat Universe [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1209456
Kudos: 17





	A Glass Slipper on the Other Foot

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by anonymous on tumblr and then taken too seriously by me.

Once upon a time  
The wife of a rich man fell very sick, and when she felt that her end was coming she called her son, a darling boy named Roman, to her bedside.  
‘My darling,’ she said. ‘Always be kind and always be brave. I’ll be guarding you from the beyond for I’ll love you forever.’  
Soon afterwards, she died and was buried in the garden. Every day the little boy would go to her grave and weep, and tried his hardest to be kind and brave as his mother had instructed. His father thought him in need of two parents, and thus married-

“Wait a minute.” Thomas scanned the page. “Where am I in this story?”  
“Oh,” Roman looked back down at the page. “Ummmm…”  
“Roman if you swapped me out with Remy I’m gonna kill you,” He joked.  
“Well…”  
“Oh my go- Carry on then!” Thomas said with a playful roll of his eyes. 

His father thought him in need of two parents, and thus married again by the next snowfall. His new husband had two sons of his own, named Thomas and Virgil, who were the lights of his life. They were bright children, but their father was foul of heart and set out to create a sorry time for young Roman.  
His father had to travel often in order to continue their riches, and before one such journey he asked of his sons what they would like him to return with. 

“Scissors for my hair,” Thomas said wryly.  
“Shut it!!” 

‘A large cloak!’ said the eldest.  
‘A basket from the bakery!’ cried the younger.  
‘And you? Child of my blood?’  
‘All I ask is for the first bough that brushes your head as you return home to us.’ Roman asked of him.  
And so their father left and attempted to return, but unfortunately as he was reaching for the bough to give his youngest, he slipped; kicking his horse which then threw it’s rider and killed him. 

“Jeez, Ro.”  
“There’s a reason for it, just shush!”

The young boy’s step father considered him the cause of his father’s demise and punished him greatly. He took away his fine clothes, instead giving him rags to mend into clothing. He forced him into the kitchen to do all the household chores, even firing the staff to make the load greater on him. His bed was taken, as well, forcing him to lie in the ashes of the hearth in order to keep warm. Then, due to how dirty he always was, his step-father began to call him Cinderoman.  
Each day after the work was done, Roman would go out to his mother’s grave and weep. He wept so hard that a tree grew there, watered by his tears. And in that tree there came to be a nest, and the bird within it felt pity for the young man who was always kind to him. He grew to love him and would help him in his own ways.

“...Stop laughing!”  
“Jo-joan is gonna fi-fight you! You’re gonna get s-such a to-tongue lashing!”  
Roman rolled his eyes. “Well this isn’t for Joan. Anyway:”

Now it happened that the king of the land had a son of his own. As his son came of age he thought it proper for him to be wed, and so designed a feast that was to last three days with everyone of eligible age to attend so that the prince could choose a spouse or two. Young Roman heard of the ball and wished desperately to go, but his step-father forbade it. He kept Roman busy with chores and with mending until Roman was worn out and too tired to even wish to attend. His family left to attend the king’s feast and Roman found himself yet again in the garden, weeping at his mother’s grave.  
‘Why do you cry tonight?’ asked the bird. ‘Tonight is an eve of celebration!’  
‘Perhaps for others,’ Roman cried. ‘But I cannot go to the ball! I am doomed to slave here, under my step-father’s thumb, where I can get no respite even if the king himself decrees it!’  
‘Is that all?’ the bird asked. ‘Then you need not cry at all, child. You have the answer here in front of you.’  
‘What are you speaking of?’ Roman asked.  
‘The tree in which I have built my home has become fond of me.’ The bird replied. ‘It tells me secrets in a way without speaking. It is grateful to you for it’s life and anything you ask of it in the same way without speaking shall be yours.’  
‘I do not know this way of not speaking.’ Roman mourned.  
‘I shall teach you,’ the bird replied.  
And the bird moved its wings, showing Roman how to move his hands in the language without speech. At last Roman was able to ask his request:  
‘Shake, shake, hazel tree,  
Gold and silver over me!’  
The tree’s branches shivered and creaked until from their boughs dropped a suit of silver, with flowers embroidered in gold. Roman slipped them on, thanked both the tree and the bird and followed his family to the feast. He was awed by the splendor of the palace, and so clean was he that his step-father did not recognize him and left him alone. His brothers did, however, and congratulated him on making it to the feast and for making such wonderful clothes. Roman would have been content to spend the evening with them if the prince had not approached him.  
‘Never before have I seen a man as intriguing as you,’ Prince Patton declared. ‘Would you join me in a dance?’  
Flattered by the request and awed by the attention of royalty, Roman accepted his hand. The two danced for the remainder of the night, enraptured by each other's company. The prince danced with no one else and Roman forgot entirely about his troubles. Close to the end of the evening, Thomas ran up to Roman and pulled him aside, warning him that they were to return soon, and that their father would be angry if they were to do so and find him missing. Roman apologized to the prince and rushed home. The prince was distressed at his absence, but he had promised to come the next night as well.  
Roman made it home before his family and gave his fine clothes back to the tree, thanking it. The bird took them for it’s nest, thanking the tree as well. 

“I can’t believe our brother in law is a tree.”  
“Shut it! I’m going somewhere with it!”  
“Tell me to shut up all you like, I’m still gonna make fun of you.”

That evening Roman hid himself in his brother’s room and spoke with them on what had transpired. His brothers worried that it was ill-fated and that he would be caught, but Roman paid them no heed. If he were to be caught it would be worth it to see the Prince’s beautiful eyes once more and to dance with him for even one more song.  
‘Teach us this languge without speaking,’ Virgil asked. ‘So that we may warn you if we are too far for speech.’  
Roman did so and the three spent the rest of the night talking in it about the feast and the palace and the prince.  
The next day, a feast was held again and after his family had left Roman went to the tree by his mother’s grave.  
‘Shake, shake, hazel tree,  
Gold and silver over me.”  
From the boughs fell a suit of gold, with flowers of silver stitched into its edges. Roman thanked the tree again and promised the bird he would bring it back a morsel of bread soaked in tea-

“OHHH, THERE’S REMY!”  
“Thomas if you interrupt me one more time I’m going to have you arrested.”  
“Nah you won’t, you like me too much. Besides, you’re the one who wanted my help in telling if it was any good.”  
“Ugh. Stop being right.”

And so he went to the feast, talking with his brothers until the prince approached him.  
‘Might I take your arm again?’ he asked.  
Roman obliged him and the two danced the remainder of the evening, lost in each other as much as they were in the steps and the music. Close to the feast’s end, Roman saw Virgil across the ballroom, hurriedly telling him in the language without speech that they were to depart soon. And that Roman had better be home before they were or their father would be cross indeed.  
Roman apologized again to the prince and fled. Distressed, the prince let him go, vowing to get his name on the next night. Roman fled the entire way home and tucked his fine clothes behind the tree once more. And once more the bird took them for his nest, quite comfortable and fine in his new, golden bedroom. Roman hid in his brother’s bedroom again that night, waiting for them. When they arrived the three of them excitedly talked on all they’d seen, not resting until the morning light crested over the next hill.  
The night of the last feast arrived. To ensure that Roman would not go, his step-father locked him in the kitchen, giving him no way out and not telling the brothers until they were well on their way. Roman pounded on the door until his fists were raw and red and yelled through the window until his voice was hoarse.  
Hearing his cries, the bird flew to his aid and used his delicate feet to pick open the locks. Roman thanked the bird and approached the tree.  
‘Shake, shake, hazel tree,  
Gold and silver rain on me.’  
Once more, a suit fell from it’s branches, this one a silken midnight blue woven with silver and gold, threads like stars on the fabric. And settled on the top of them was a crown entirely woven from beautiful glass. Roman thanked the tree for all it had done, donned the beautiful garment, and hastened to the palace. His brothers embraced him when he arrived, though the prince was quick to whisk him away when he saw him. The two danced through the night, getting to know one another and falling more deeply in love then they had thought possible. They whirled across the floor as if guided by the wings of love themselves.  
Inevitably, the feast began to end and his brothers frantically told Roman that they were to leave soon. Roman apologized to the prince and fled. The prince was distressed for he did not even know his love’s name. He pursued him, but Roman was too fast, fleeing as fast as the wind itself and leaving behind only the glass crown, which had fallen off his head. He scarcely made it home in time to hide his clothes again, letting the bird take them for his nest before falling asleep against the bark. His brothers woke him the next morning. They hurried him into the house, promising he had not been seen.  
The next day, an announcement was made across the kingdom declaring that the prince would wed the one who fit into the glass crown. The step-father thought this was very foolish, for of course his sons could fit a task so simple.  
But when the crown was placed on Virgil’s head he declared, ‘Father, it does not fit.’  
Their father was undiscouraged and placed it on Thomas’ head. But again his son cried, ‘Father, it does not fit.”  
‘Have you any more in this house?’ the prince asked.  
‘None but our serving boy,’ the father said. ‘And he did not attend.’  
‘Let him try,’ Begged the brothers. ‘If it is futile you have nothing to worry for.’  
The prince agreed and Roman was brought forth. The crown was placed upon his head, a perfect fit.  
‘But if you are the man who I danced with, why are you in rags?’ The prince asked.  
Roman replied, ‘I tell you, Highness, the clothes I wore were a gift to me from a friend, and in return I gave them to another friend who needed them far more.’  
‘Truly you are the most kindhearted man I have met.’ the prince declared. ‘Would you become my husband?’  
‘I will,’ Roman said. ‘Only allow me to bring my brothers, my bird, and my tree and I will be your most gracious husband.’  
The prince allowed it and in an expression of gratitude for the kindness to Roman, his brothers fell upon the tree and bird and kissed them. In a burst of light two young men stood there, hand in hand.  
‘Could it be?’ the prince cried. ‘Mine own brothers who have been missing half a lifetime?’  
The three cried and embraced, talking in the way without speech the entire journey to the palace. It came to pass that Roman and the prince were wed, and later Thomas wed the Prince who had been a bird and Virgil wed the prince who had been a tree. They were deeply in love for the rest of their days.  
And they all lived happily ever after.

“So?” Roman asked  
“Well it’s well written but why’d you make it?” Thomas asked.  
Roman shrugged. “Fit of inspiration. I was hoping that if I flipped it Patton might actually admit what happened to him was awful but the way it went I lost track of that point.”  
“Clearly…” Thomas muttered, looking back down at the tree. “Why is Logan a tree?”  
“I don’t know.” Roman admitted. “He just sort of became one. It’s sort of a callback to a story I once read.”  
Thomas hummed. “Well it is good, but if you want Patton to read it I’d edit it to get back to the point.”  
Roman sighed. “That’s what I thought…”


End file.
